


Ladies Night

by Hannigrammatic



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: #JustFuckMeUp, Cunnilingus, F/F, First Kiss, First Time, JustFuckMeUp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-09
Updated: 2016-06-09
Packaged: 2018-07-14 02:11:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7148075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hannigrammatic/pseuds/Hannigrammatic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beverly Katz is nursing a horrible crush on Alana Bloom. Alana notices.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ladies Night

**Author's Note:**

> My third contribution to #JustFuckMeUp fest! Another first for me :D Which is a surprise, since I'm a woman who loves women irl. LOL!
> 
> Not beta read~

Beverly nearly walks out of the room immediately once she notices who is there, alone and presumably waiting for someone. The second those round blue eyes catch sight of her, however, she is snared, and she hopes she doesn't blush too hard as she continues her walk into the breakroom with her steaming cup of take-out coffee.

"Hi," she greets the woman brightly -maybe too brightly.

"Hi there, Ms Katz."

Goddamn, but those eyes are _so_ blue. It's like she's looking at the ocean and the sky at once, crystal clear and glittering. For a second, she stares at Alana Bloom, stricken. Beverly doesn't even remember how hot the cup is in her hand anymore, nor the time, nor where she had to be that morning.

"Everything okay?" Alana sounds mildly confused.

_Oh shi-, oh fuck_. She'd been staring, evidently dumbstruck not just mentally but also visually. She shakes her head and runs a hand through her long hair, grateful for some distraction as she belts out a loud laugh.

"Yeah, I'm doing just godam- great, great, yeah. One of those mornings, you know?" _Smooth, Katz_.

Alana smiles wide, impossibly white teeth gleaming under the fluorescents above. Her hair is loose and long about her face and shoulders, and she has the prettiest shade of lipstick on, noticeable and yet not taking away from her gorgeous eyes. She's wearing a dress that stops just below her knees, one that hugs her body and is woven with subtle flower patterns. Her heeled boots give her a half an inch height over Beverly.

Not that she minds. At all.

_Don't look at her cleavage, don't look at her cleavage_.

"Well, I've got to go meet Jack," Alana says, chipper, holding up her mug of tea in a gesture of farewell (her favorite mug, Beverly knows, the one with the cartoon dogs on it). "I'll see you later, Ms Katz."

"Beverly, please," she insists with a smile she hopes isn't as awkward as it feels on her face. "Bye!"

Beverly succeeds in her task of not dropping her eyes to the open neck of Alana's dress, and she's about to praise herself when she glances at the woman's retreating figure and sighs. She can't help looking at that pert and shapely backside swaying with each step, the lingering waft of jasmine perfume following in her wake. 

"I'm fucked," she says to no one in particular, once she's in the room alone.

Suddenly, she realizes that her hand hurts a _lot_. Cursing, she rushes to the counter to set the take-out cup on it. She mutters a few more choice expletives, hand waving in the air. _Every fucking time_ , she thinks. And it's true -everytime she's alone with Alana Bloom, or even not alone and just in her presence in general, Beverly finds herself absolutely out of control. The once smooth, humorous and confident woman becomes her of the past, the nerd in high school who didn't even attend her own prom.

Beverly rolls her eyes heavenward at her misfortune. One of those mornings indeed.

****

 

The next time she runs into Alana, it's in an elevator, and boy is it an awkward ride down. They're both heading to the lab for a briefing, and as the doors ding shut, Beverly's hopes and dreams are left behind on the floor she is now leaving. 

"Yo," she greets the woman, and then she winces. "I mean -hi. Hello, Ms Bloom."

 

"Hi, Beverly," those perfect teeth again. "You might as well call me Alana."

"Sweet, sounds good."

_Ugh, I sound worse than a hormonal schoolboy_. Gross. Beverly fidgets as she stands next to the woman that so occupies her mind lately, wishing for elevator music for the first time in her life. At least then she'd have some sort of distraction that wasn't the sweet and floral scent of Alana's perfume. 

In seconds, however, the elevator stops one floor above their intended destination, and in walks Will Graham.

And then the small space is full of so much nervous energy that Beverly feels her chest tighten. At least now there's a distraction for the last few seconds of their ride. Because honestly, Will is one of the most awkward people alive. His eyes skitter at them and then away before he stands against the wall, grunting a barely intelligible greeting. Then he looks elsewhere quickly, nose down as he attempts to hide in his curls. 

It's almost cute. Like a puppy who is trying not to look guilty. Normally, Beverly would give him a punch to the shoulder and greet him boisterously. 

But normally meant Alana Bloom wasn't in sight, let alone _right next to her_ , so she refrains. At that moment, the elevator dings one last time, and Will walks out so quickly that the doors are still opening.

"After you," Alana says with a smile, hand gesturing ahead of her.

Beverly grins and ducks her head, and then walks ahead of the kind woman. Together, they track down Will once more, along with the rest of the team.

****

After the briefing, it's nearing the end of Beverly's shift and, presumably, Alana's. And to add icing to the cake of disaster that has been the day (at least in Beverly's books), the woman is the last one in the lab, flipping through charts tacked to the wall. At first, Beverly had assumed that she was waiting for Jack, and then Will, but as both men filtered out, she eventually came to the conclusion that Alana was waiting for-

_Oh god, what do I do?_

"So," Alana's voice broke through Beverly's inner monologue. "I was thinking."

"Oh?" Beverly sets down the clipboard she'd been holding as she pretended to peruse the papers on it.

"Yeah," and the woman spins around and smiles so heartily that Beverly is smitten all over again. "Drinks. I was thinking drinks. Me and you."

"Tonight?" 

Beverly hopes her jaw isn't open in shock. It probably is, though.

"Is tonight okay for you?" Alana pretends to look around the room, one booted foot tapping at the tiled floor gently.

"It's definitely fine!"

_Again, smooth_.

****

The pub is crowded and noisy, but they find a corner more or less removed from the chatter. They order a pitcher of beer, both learning that the other prefers it to most beverages, which is a mutual discovery that evolves into a topic for a lengthy conversation of various brews. After her first glass, Beverly starts to feel more comfortable hanging out with Alana, whose gentle personality and easy smiles soothe the nervousness out of her bones almost as much as the beer does. The other woman wears a jacket now, but it's undone, and her cleavage is spilling forth beneath her arms as they are resting on the table. Proud of herself, Beverly only looks twice, disguising the action as a cough.

"What do you do?" she asks the beautiful woman sitting across from her. "Other than work, I mean."

"I like to read, and learn new things," Alana answers with her eyes squinting in the dim lighting of the pub. "Mostly I enjoy walking, taking in the scenery and stuff. I have a dog named Applesauce, and she keeps me company."

"That's an adorable name," Beverly remarks. "My landlord doesn't allow dogs. I have a cat named Missy, though. She's a brat."

They share a laugh, and then Beverly is almost spitting her drink out at a sensation that she takes far too long to realize is Alana's foot nudging into her own. She doesn't look away from those big blue eyes, shocked into speechlessness for a brief time. 

"Maybe you could introduce me to her," Alana says, lowering her voice into a pleasant almost-purr that Beverly can swear she would do anything to hear again, every day.

She opens her mouth to speak, unsure exactly what she wants to say or should say. Eventually, tired of imitating a fish, she buries her face in her hands and blushes hard.

"How long have you known?" she asks, embarrassed.

"The first few times you talked to my tits instead of my face," is the answer that has Beverly groaning out loud.

"I thought you didn't notice," she winces.

Alana reaches across the table and covers one of Beverly's hands with her own, the gesture beyond sweet and her skin so very soft. Their fingers entangle not long after, and Beverly peeks out at the woman who has captured her attention entirely.

"I get paid to notice things," the woman says with a wink. "And so do you."

"You don't gawk at my breasts," Beverly complains.

"Do you know that for certain?" a teasing tinkle of a giggle.

Beverly squeezes the hand in her own, and then finally sits up straight to meet Alana's eyes. Her face is still hot and probably incredibly red, but at least she can partially blame it on the alcohol

"I think Missy would love to meet you," she says at last.

****

While it's true that Missy loves the attention given to her by the new person in her abode, the excuse is flimsy at best. Beverly is mildly pleased that it wasn't her silly suggestion for once, though even if it had been, she would be fine with it. For Alana Bloom is in her house, jacket stripped, boots toed out of, and she's not even pretending to want to see the cat anymore (although she definitely has given the feline a few affectionate strokes).

Missy, sensing the energy developing in the room, slinks off into the bathroom to find her litterbox. Beverly is left nearly trembling under the heavy gaze of Alana, whose blue eyes have darkened. 

"Come here?" Alana asks gently, holding a hand out.

"God yes," and Beverly can't even feel how flustered she is as she takes two long strides.

They embrace tightly, mouths clashing in a fierce kiss that is clicking teeth and tongues licking passed lips. Both of Alana's hands tangle into Beverly's long, unbound hair, gripping the strands and tugging playfully. Breath is exhaled harshly through their noses, and Beverly's hands wander from the other woman's shoulders, stroking down her spine, until she's spanning her fingers across each buttcheek and squeezing them.

"Mmmn," Alana pulls away and nips at her lips. "Should we take this to your room? I wouldn't want to be a bad influence on Missy."

Beverly giggles, nods her agreement. She reluctantly removes her hands from Alana's ass after bestowing one last squeeze, almost a pinch, just so that she can hear the woman laugh again. She's so beautiful, everything about her makes Beverly feel like she's floating on the proverbial cloud nine. Eventually they make it to her bedroom, and amidst a brief tangle of limbs and a few quick kisses, Beverly finds her shirt removed and tossed aside. Alana divests her of her jeans in much the same manner, face determined, round cheeks pink.

"As much as I love you in those jeans," she remarks, flinging the offending fabric aside. "This is much better."

"You mean you love my ass in those jeans?" Beverly asks innocently.

"You've got a _great_ ass," the other smirks and nods her head.

Alana slips out of her coat, and then straddles Beverly, dress rucked up so that her thighs are bared. She's not wearing any pantyhose, but she is wearing panties -tiny lacey things, slipping into view when anxious hands slip beneath the dress to clasp curvaceous hips. Alana purrs in response as she kneels above Beverly.

"You're so fucking hot."

Beverly can't help it as she hisses the words out. She draws one hand away from Alana's warm hip and opts to cup one of her ample breasts.

"I could say the same of you."

The wandering hands are batted away, however, pinned above Beverly's head instead. Alana kisses her deeply, licking into her mouth. Lipstick is smeared between them both, but neither of them notice or care. The tiny lamp on the nightstand throws dim light over the women as they press close together, bodies flush. The dominant position that Alana has taken makes Beverly want to moan loudly and offer herself completely -instead she clenches her legs together as the woman conquers her mouth, feels herself growing wet and soaking her own panties.

"You've done this before," Beverly remarks, panting after her mouth is freed.

"With a woman? Plenty of times," Alana's voice is sultry. 

"Ahh," a gasp as Beverly's bra strap is snapped teasingly. "I always thought you and Doctor Lecter had something going on, not going to lie."

Alana sits up and strips off her dress in a fluid movement. It lands on the floor somewhere, and leaves the brunette wearing only her panties and her strapless push-up bra: although the latter doesn't last much longer, joining the dress a second later. Luscious and bouncing, her breasts spring free, nipples pink and drawn hard already in the woman's excitement.

"We flirt," Alana admits. "But he's already involved."

"No surprise there, considering he's rich. I was surprised to find he wasn't married, honestly."

Their quiet chatter is interrupted by a few more lazy, drawn out kisses and exploring fingertips stroking smooth skin. A mutual sigh drifts out of their opened lips.

"He might as well be," Alana says eventually. "He's utterly besotted with Will. They’ve been seeing each other for a month. But shhh, it’s a secret."

Beverly pulls away and gawks briefly. She knew they were close, just...not _that_ kind of close. She had just always assumed they were nothing more, much less romantic. Or sexual... (she tries not to think about them fucking, and then fails, face flushing.)

"Yeah, I know,right?" the other woman giggles, correctly guessing Beverly’s thoughts. "Anyway. Where were we?"

They were apparently at the part where Beverly's bra is removed and flung aside like so much trash. Her small, perky breasts jiggle as she lays back down, long black hair haloing her head as the brunette leans forward with intention. They kiss again, another nearly-frantic exploration of each others' mouths, Alana cupping both of Beverly's tits and kneading firmly. Her thumbs rub circles around hardening nipples.

"You taste like beer," she mutters after they draw away again. "I like it."

Another kiss, two, playful nibbles following.

"One second," Alana says.

She sits back, kneeling above Beverly, whose knees are drawn up with her feet on the bed. They take in each other hungrily, before the brunette leans down to draw her tongue in a long, wet stripe from navel to pubic bone -the action draws forth a loud moan and an arching back. Alana nips at the meat of Beverly’s hip in response, pressing her teeth down hard enough to elicit a shiver that turns into a full-body quiver when her slender fingers pet along the other’s flat belly. 

Two of the digits slip down between their bodies to rub unerringly at Beverly’s clit through her thin panties, circling the sensitive nerve endings. Both women are panting and damp. Blue eyes meet dark brown for a span of several seconds, each of them feeling her heart beating rabidly. 

“You’re so wet,” Alana murmurs, pleased. “Can I take your panties off?”

“Fuck, yeah. Hell, I got this.”

Beverly hopes that the other wasn’t expecting anything slow and sensual, because there’s really no way she can stand to play this out any longer. Her belly is tight with arousal and anticipation. Alana laughs loudly, following the trajectory of the panties as they land on the lampshade. 

“I’m going to make you scream my name,” the brunette points out, tone deadpan, a statement that cracks up Beverly’s spine and makes her eyes widen and lips part on a whine.

No more time is wasted. Alana moves swiftly, grips Beverly’s thighs and lifts her lower body up. Her mouth finds her intended target, sealing over the wet, most intimate part of the black-haired woman’s body. Her tongue slips in between moist folds, dipping inside her hole only for a few scattered seconds, withdrawing to flatten along Beverly's swollen clit. Her curtain of hair falls around her, sealing off the sight for the most part, but it's enough to see the psychiatrist there at all. 

"Alana," she croons. "Fuckkkk. That feels so good."

The woman hums, sending vibrations through a shivering body. Her long fingers reach forward to ease Beverly's legs open wider, thumbs stroking inwards to spread her pussy. With more room to work, Alana laps at and around the engorged clit, and then sinks her tongue back inside of the soaked hole. She feels nails scratching in her hair and along her scalp, and it only urges her to work harder and faster, tongue fucking in and out and smoothing circles delicately.

True to her word, Beverly is on the verge of screaming indeed, pulled to the brink by the continuous, sweet torture. And then there's pounding on the wall behind them, and the moment is shattered briefly. Alana sits up again, eyes wide and lips damp. 

"Did that really just happen?" she asks.

"Yep," Beverly sighs. "I was so close, too."

"We have plenty of time," Alana soothes.

They draw near for another kiss, this one tender with tongues tangling languidly. Their bodies glisten with sweat, and Beverly's eyes shut in bliss. She wishes it can be said that there were no more interruptions that night, but of course there were. The women made love passionately with mouths and fingers, and they came seconds apart. Afterwards, they snuggled close under the blankets, each of them with their hair a mess, and traded kisses for whispers, and then sleep for dreams.

The next morning, they had coffee together, sitting at Beverly's counter on comfy stools. They went to work together and parted ways after an elevator ride that was only awkward because Jack almost caught them kissing.

Beverly could be seen smiling dreamily for the rest of her shift, which sort of creeped out Jimmy Price and Brian Zeller, her partners in the lab.


End file.
